Wear White
by AlwaysRain
Summary: Some cope well with death. Others don't. Gilbert Bielschmidt had always dealt exceptionally well. He joined the army two days after he graduated high school, and it lead to his own death. So how are the others coping?


It was a closed coffin ceremony. There had been no body to recover and place inside. The mahogany wood shone in the gentle lighting, adorned with only a single bouquet. White astilbe penetrated the darkness of black roses.  
The display was humble and simple, a somber mood blanketing the church. Each in attendance wore the dark colors of grief. Each pew was filled, from the front of the church to the back. Not a single person more could fit in the sanctuary.  
For the whole town, it was a time of mourning. Gilbert Bielschmidt, though loud and unruly, had been well-liked. He and his younger brother Ludwig were favored in the community. Nearly nine years before, a fire had destroyed his family. His parents perished, while he and Ludwig lived. The community had taken them into their hearts, and had saved them. Yet, strong as it was, the will of the community could not save Gilbert from the crash.  
"We've lost a great man. A great soldier. Let us never forget him."  
The priest's final words rang through absolute silence. No sound followed the echo for several minutes. Then one young man stood. Adjusting his glasses, he turned to face the crowd, unable to cleanse his face of pain.  
"I believe you'll all recall I asked you for treasured stories about Gilbert. I've-" he cut off, falling silent for a moment before continuing in a choked voice, "I've taken some of those stories and composed something for my cousin. And, Ludwig, if you'd allow, I'd… I'd like to share it with you all."  
Gilbert's blonde brother nodded, looking up at his cousin. "Please, Roderich, if you would…"  
Roderich stood in place for a moment, looking torn, but then moved to the piano and set out his sheet music. His trembling fingers hovered over the keys before he cleared his throat nervously and began to play.

**"If I die young,**  
**Bury me in satin.**  
**Lay me down on a bed of roses,**  
**Sink me in the river at dawn.**  
**Send me away with the words of a love song."**

A slight gasp carried throughout the curch. Elizaveta Hèdervàry pressed a hand to her mouth, tears instantly dripping from her face as she recalled the memory from only two months previously.

_"Dude, your bed is so soft!"_  
_Elizaveta rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "We're at my house to study, Gilbert, not to lay on my bed. Get off. You're only here to help with my geography project."_  
_"Can't I work from up here?"_  
_"No. Get off my bed."_  
_Gilbert sighed, bouncing off the rose-patterned satin sheets. He grabbed his school nag from the floor, dragging it over to him and scooting closer to Elizaveta. "You're such a party pooper, Eli."_  
_"That's lovely."_  
_After a moment of silence while they worked, Gilbert spoke up again. "When I die, you should bury me in your bedsheets. Especially if I die young."_  
_Elizaveta jerked her head up, looking at him in disbelief. "What? That's really creepy, Gil, don't you know that? You can't just ask to be buried in my bedsheets, for Christ's sake!"_  
_"Why not? Besides, I don't mean it in a creepy way."_  
_"Then you do you mean it?"_  
_"Well, they're satin, aren't they? I just meant that it would be cool to buried in satin. It's classy and awesome."_  
_"I doubt it. Coffins aren't generally lined in satin."_  
_"Then don't put me in a coffin."_  
_Elizaveta sighed, shaking her head and going back to her work. Gilbert made faces at her for another five minutes, but gave up when she didn't respond to them. It was another half hour before he spoke._  
_"You should sing me a song."_  
_"Like what, Gil?"_  
_"I dunno. A love song, maybe."_  
_"I'll sing you a love song while you're dying, how about that?"_  
_"Meaning?"_  
_"Go to hell."_  
_Gilbert laughed, throwing his pen at her. Ignoring it, she pulled a large textbook_ _out of her bag, cross-referencing a few notes with the chapter. Gilbert groaned. She threw the pen at his head. As he went to pick it up and throw it back, she looked up. He froze._  
_"Don't even think about it, Beilschmidt."_  
_"Damn. You weren't supposed to notice."_  
_"I did. Now, answer a question?"_  
_"What?"_  
_"What is your favorite place, and at what time of day?"_  
_Gilbert blinked in surprise. "… Why, exactly?"_  
_"Geography. Don't ask questions, just answer them."_  
_"Fine, then. I like it up by the river. At dawn. Have you ever seen it? The sun_ _reflects off the water and onto the trees and lights everything up. And on the white flowers, it's really quite beautiful."_  
_Elizaveta let a small smile tug at her lips. "You're really quite sentimental, Gilbert." She looked away from him to write down his answer. A moment later, a slight creak caught her attention. Without looking up from her work, she sighed. "Off the bed, Gilbert. Now."_  
_"Damnit!"_

Next to Elizaveta, Ludwig took her hand and squeezed it in silence. Roderich's next words were directed at him. They washed a powerful memory to the front of his mind, strengthening his tears.

**"Lord, make me a rainbow,**  
**I'll shine down on my brother.**  
**He'll know I'm safe with you**  
**When he stands under my colors. **  
**Oh, and**  
**Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no.**  
**Ain't even grey, but they bury his brother."**

It had been the day of their parent's funeral that they'd had the discussion. Ludwig never forgot that conversation. It had a been a discussion of death.

_"Gilbert? Where are they?"_  
_The white-haired boy looked down at his younger brother, holding his hand tightly. "Who?"_  
_"Momma and Vati. Where did they go?"_  
_Gilbert stared at the shiny new headstone, contemplating an answer. It would be unacceptable to tell his eight-year-old brother that he didn't know. "Heaven. They're in heaven, Lud. And they're watching us and keeping us safe."_  
_"How do we know?"_  
_"I-" He hadn't thought of that. He frowned, furiously wracking his brain for another answer. He caught sight of a rainbow and latched onto it. "There. See the rainbow up in the sky? That's how we know."_  
_Ludwig squeezed his brother's hand, turning slowly to walk back to their aunt and uncle. "Will God ever make us rainbows?"_  
_"When we go to heaven, Luddy. He'll make us rainbows when we go to heaven so everyone here on earth knows we're okay."_  
_Falling silent, the two brothers walked hand-in-hand down the cemetery hill. At the bottom, they paused to look up at their parent's graves. Neither spoke until later that night, when they were getting ready for bed. Ludwig sat on the edge of their aunt's couch, watching Gilbert._  
_"Why did God let them die? He made them break a promise. They said they'd never leave us, Gil."_  
_Gilbert paused what he was doing, looking over. "Well…. I don't know, Lud. But life can't always go how we want it to. I mean… God took them away, and we_ _aren't even in highschool. But maybe that just means that they were too good for everyone here, and God wanted them for himself."_  
_Ludwig fell silent, then crawled over to the air mattress Gilbert was laying on. He curled up next to his brother, clenching little fists in his shirt._  
_"Don't ever leave me, brother."_  
_"I won't, Ludwig. I promise."_

Removing his hand from Elizaveta's, Ludwig hid his face. Even so, the whole church could see his shoulders shaking. Tears leaked between his fingers, dripping onto his shirt and staining it darker. He'd never admit it, but what Gilbert had said on the day of their parent's burial had stuck with him throughout the years. Everytime he heard of a death, whether he knew the person or not, he would look for a rainbow. The moment the news of the crash came to him, he had searched. Everyday for a week and a half leading up to the funeral, he had searched.  
He hadn't found one yet.

**"The sharp knife of a short life.  
Well, I've had just enough time."**

One row back, two young men drew themselves up straighter, fighting to remain composed. Apart from his family, they were the ones Gilbert had known the longest and spend the most time with. From the moment they met in their first year of school, Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert had been inseparable. The blonde and brunette exchanged glances, linking their hands for comfort as they remembered together.

_"You're really going through with it, then?"  
Gilbert looked up from the cookie dough he was shaping. Once again, the three friends were baking, defying everyone's theories that they were troublemakers.  
"Of course I am. I don't want to sit on the sidelines anymore. I want to help."  
Antonio scooped a bit of dough from the bowl, laughing when Francis slapped his hand away. "I can't believe you're really gonna do it, Gil. What happened to getting yourself a girl and settling down?"_  
_"I never wanted a girl, Toni. You know that."  
"Fine, fine. Boy, then. Same thing when it comes to my question. What happened?"  
"I dunno." The albino placed a sheet of cookies in the oven, starting to load up another. "I don't want to settle down, not yet. I want action in my life. I want to do something good for our country. I don't want to have to leave anyone behind like my parents left me and Ludwig."  
Francis shrugged. "Good enough reason for me. Even though if you left someone behind, you'd be able to come back to them. But speaking of settling down- Antonio, are you ever going to ask Lovino?"_  
_Antonio flushed, but his smile grew about a hundred degrees brighter. "I already did, actually. We're going to have a small reception here for everyone, and then take a vacation in Spain. The actual ceremony is going to be there. And we're going to Italy afterward to visit his extended family."  
Francis clapped; Gilbert tossed a towel at Antonio's head. "Congrats, you stupid romantic."  
"You two will be my groomsmen, won't you? I know there's only supposed to be one Best Man, but you both could, right?"  
"Of course, mon ami! We wouldn't leave you hanging."  
After a while of discussing Antonio's fiancée, things shifted back to Gilbert's upcoming departure.  
"So… won't you be sent overseas right after boot camp?"_  
_Gilbert sighed, leaning against the counter. "Probably. They're saying they need fresh troops as soon as possible."  
Antonio frowned. "What if something happens overseas?"_  
_"Life is like a knife, Tonio. It's short and it hurts. You gotta live it to the fullest, right? Well, that's what I'm doing. We all are. Francis, you're going to college to get your degree. You'll be a therapist for rape victims. It's what you've always wanted, right? To help people like that? And Antonio, you're marrying Lovino. You always said you wanted to get married and have kids, and then Lovino came along, and now you can fulfill that dream. I mean, you'll have to adopt, but you'll have a family of your own. Marrying Lovino is the best possible thing for you. And me… Well… I want both. I want to help, but I want a family. So I've decided that making a family can wait. After all, if there's someone worth the effort, they'll wait for me, won't they? And in the mean time, I really just want to do some good. I'm going to protect my country. And if I die… I've had enough time, I suppose. It's been a good life."_

On Antonio's other side, Lovino slipped his hand around Antonio's arm. He, too, was remembering that day. Antonio had stopped by with fresh cookies and the most loving smile on his face. They'd spent the rest of the evening together, and Antonio had passed along Gilbert and Francis's congratulations.  
The piano flowed on, a song of pure emotion. The music alone brought the church to tears, but Roderich's words coaxed memories from hidden depths of the mind. Though the memories may have been happy, they were stained with loss. More tears fell.

**"If I die young, bury me in satin,  
Lay me down on a bed of roses.  
Sink me in the river at dawn,  
Send me away with the words of a love song.  
The sharp knife of a short life;  
Well, I've had just enough time."**

The pews were filled with sniffling people, all trying to control their sorrow. Most fought valiantly. Others didn't even attempt to brace themselves. Unknowing that he'd be the next victim of the past, a small young man sat in the fourth pew on the right.  
His hands were trembling as he tried to hide his utter distress, quietly whispering with his brother. Soft blonde hair fell into his face, shielding him from the world. He adjusted his glasses, trying to keep tears from dripping on them. He'd always been a shy, quiet child- nearly invisible. He was not the type Gilbert would make friends with. Quite the opposite, in fact.  
And yet, this timid creature was the singular person Gilbert had loved.

**"The sharp knife of a short life;  
Well, I've had just enough time.  
And I'll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom,  
I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger.  
I've never known any special loving,  
But it sure felt nice when you held my hand.  
There's a boy here in town,  
Says he'll love me forever;  
Who would've thought forever could be severed by  
The sharp knife of a short life?  
Well, I've had just enough time."**

They'd met through Francis. Matthew was his cousin, Gilbert his best friend. It was just a quick meeting, when Francis had picked Gilbert up on his way to dropping Matthew off. Those few first minutes had blossomed into an unlikely friendship. And later… love.

_They walked home together, fingers intertwined as they laughed, not a care in the world. Snow fell around them, laying a blanket of white around them. It covered their shoulders and heads in a light, cold layer of fluff.  
"White suits you, Mattie," Gilbert remarked, brushing it from the shorter teen's hair. "You should wear white more often."  
"I don't want to stain it. I do like it, though. It's pretty."  
"I want to be wearing white when I die, Mattie."  
The small blonde looked up at him, surprised and a little taken aback by the sudden comment. "I thought people wore white at weddings, not funerals."  
"They do. But I want to wear white when I die. Then, God will see my purity. I'm going to save myself, Mattie, for one person and one person only. Then, when I die, if I wear white, God will know what I did. And when I know who it is, I'll marry them." He tapped a thinly banded ring on his little finger. "I'll give them my purity ring."  
Matthew fell silent for a moment, watching their feet as they walked in sync. "Haven't you ever had a girlfriend?"  
"Nope?"  
"Haven't you ever fallen in love?  
Gilbert looked at the sky, then shrugged. "I don't know, Mattie. I don't even know if I'm sure what love is. Sometimes I like to think there's someone out there who loves me, someone I can love just as much as they love me." He glanced at his friend, squeezing his hand lightly. "It feels nice to have a hand to hold, though."  
"…Right…"  
"What about you, Mattie? Have you ever been in love?"  
Matthew turned red and looked away, not answering him. Gilbert raised his eyebrows in shock, a grin dawning on his face.  
"You have! I'll bet you're in love right now. I can see it. Who is he?"  
That was the thing about Gilbert. He knew Matthew was gay, but never gave him any shit about it. He was gentle and sweet about the subject, unlike several other people he knew. Matthew shook his head quickly.  
"No one. Just… someone I know."  
"I bet I can guess. What color is his hair? Blonde?"  
"No."  
"Brown? What about black?"  
"Neither."  
"Red?"  
"No, Gil."  
"Has he ever dyed it?"  
"No."  
"Really? Huh. What color is it, then?"  
Matthew shrugged, focusing his gaze on a far off lightpost. "Well… there's white, isn't there?"  
Gilbert grinned, elbowing him gently. "Like me! So, how old is he?"  
"Nineteen. His birthday is in January. He'll be twenty."  
"Mein Gott, Mattie, is he awesome? If you've fallen in love, at least make sure they're awesome! Though I admit, he sounds pretty awesome."  
Matthew began to laugh, his eyes sparkling, though slightly sad. "Don't worry, Gil. He's awesome. He's really awesome. But don't worry, he's not going to pull me away from you."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I'm not ever going to date him."  
"Why not?"  
"He…" Matthew fidgeted slightly as they walked, his hand tightening in Gilbert's. "He doesn't love me back, Gil. It isn't hard to see that."  
Gilbert's boisterous attitude fell away, smile turning into an agitated scowl. His hand tightened around Matthew's protectively. "Has he ever hurt you?"  
"What? No! I mean, yes, but not.. No. He hasn't hurt me physically. It just… it kind of hurts, knowing he'll never feel the same about me as I feel about him."  
"I'll beat the shit out of him, Mattie. You don't deserve to have an ass like that! If he doesn't notice how amazing you are, you're too good for him anyway. You're too good for everyone, Mattie, I mean it."  
Matthew sighed. "Drop it, Gil. Please. Besides, we're here. This is your house."  
Gilbert stopped, but didn't release Matthew's hand. "How long have you loved him, Mattie?"  
"I've known him for nine years, and I've loved him for… for six…"  
"Can you tell me who it is?"  
When Matthew didn't answer, he sighed, moving on to another question.  
"How long will you love him?"  
"Forever…"  
"Forever could be short, Mattie."  
"I know. But even if it is, I'll love him through it."  
"But you can't tell me who he is?"  
Matthew stayed silent. Gilbert sighed, stepping away and dropping his hand. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Mattie…" He turned, walking toward the small house. Not halfway up the path, a timid voice rang out after him.  
"You're him, Gil."  
Gilbert turned, one hand on the doorknob. "What?"  
"The one I was talking about. The one I love." Matthew shifted his weight nervously, wringing his hands. "He's you."  
Gilbert stood in silence for a full two minutes, watching as Matthew's face grew steadily darker red, beginning to shiver, though not from the cold. Without a word, Gilbert dropped his bag on the doorstep, striding over to Matthew and capturing his lips in a kiss.  
"Mattie, you mean the world to me."_

Matthew made a choked sound, hiding his face. His brother Alfred noted that he'd gone pale. He leaned over worriedly, whispering in his ear. "Mattie-"  
"Don't say that, Al, please. Don't call me that."  
Alfred drew back in shock at the tinny, yet firm reply. Blinking, he wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders, dragging him into a hug.  
"Are you okay?"  
"No, Al, I'm not, I… I think I'm going to be sick…"  
"Matthew?" Alfred's expression changed from slight anxiety to instant worry. He watched as Matthew's face turned slightly green behind his hands.  
"I can't listen anymore, Al."  
Moving his hands from his face, he clamped them over his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut, moisture clinging to his lashes as he tried his hardest to shut out the song. To shut out the world. Ultimately, to shut out Gilbert's memory.

**"A penny for my thoughts,  
Oh, no- I'll sell them for a dollar.  
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner.  
And maybe then you'll hear the words I've been singing?  
Funny, when you're dead, how people start listening…"**

Roderich's voice grew tight as he sang, but he forced himself to continue. He'd added in his own story, though it was nearly two years old. It had been their junior year in highschool, and they'd been paired up for a science project.

_"Penny for your thoughts, Roddy."  
"Penny for yours," Roderich shot back at his cousin, not looking up from his work.  
"Oh, hell no! My thoughts are worth so much more than a penny."  
"And just why are your thoughts suddenly worth so much?"  
Gilbert shrugged. "It isn't sudden. Everyone's thoughts are worth more than a penny. Especially after they die. I mean, that's the only time that people really start listening to what they have to say, right?"  
Roderich finally looked up from his paper. "What makes you say that?"  
"I know from experience. There's nothing I wouldn't give to know what Momma and Vati were thinking before they died."  
"I see. But why are your thoughts in particular worth so much?"  
"My thoughts are expensive, that's why."  
"How much?"  
"A dollar."  
Roderich made a small, amused noise. "Makes sense. Cheap, like some other things I know of."  
Gilbert groaned. "Okay, I do not think about whores, Roddy. I know that's what everyone else thinks, but it isn't true. So why don't you pay me a dollar, and I'll tell you what else I think. You'll want to know after I'm gone, anyway."  
"Go right on believing that, Gilbert."  
"So does that mean I get a dollar?"_

Up at the piano, Roderich slowed the music. Really, he mused, it would have been worth it to pay him. Two weeks ago, Gilbert had brought up the dollar per thought topic once again. That day was the last time Roderich ever saw his cousin. Everything had seemed so perfect at the time. Until the flight malfunction that had twisted everything around.

**"If I die young, bury me in satin,  
Laybe me down on a bed of roses.  
Sink me in the river at dawn,  
Send me away with the words of a love song."**

The crash. That memory belonged to no one. It was Gilbert's, and only Gilberts. And with him gone, that memory was no longer in the world. The truth of his last moments would never be revealed to those who loved him.

_The world flashed by underneath the plane wings, blurred slightly by a wall of clouds. Gilbert pressed his forhead against the window, smiling widely. "Wow…" He clutched an envelope in his hand tightly. "I wish they could all see this…"  
Another soldier leaned over to catch a glimpse of the world outside the window. "It's great, isn't it?"  
"Yeah. I've never flown before."  
"Really? I used to fly all the time with my dad."  
Gilbert drew back from the window as the aircraft began to shake. "What's going on?"  
"Turbulence. We're over the mountains, it's bound to happen at least once. It'll be over soon."  
A few minutes later, it hadn't ended. The soldier frowned. "That's strange. It should be done by now, or at least lessened. This is just getting worse. Well, I guess it isn't anything, really. Why don't we get to know each other? Who's the letter from?"  
"My fiancée. I-" Gilbert was cut off as sirens began to blare. A voice came over the loudspeaker, but he couldn't hear. Blood roared in his ears. He hugged the envelope to his chest. A glance out the window told him that- wait. Were the mountains closer, or-  
"Oh, god!" The soldier beside him yelped, fumbling for his seatbelt. "Oh, god, we're losing altitude!"  
Gilbert felt his heart skip a beat. The ground outside was growing larger and larger. The plane was shaking so badly it was nearly unbearable. He knew instantly when they connected with the mountain. Half a second later, light and heat washed over him._

**"If I die young, bury me in satin,  
Lay me down on a bed of roses.  
Sink me in the river at dawn,  
Send me away with the words of a love song."**

The church was no longer silent, nor full. Pews had been emptied as people left the sanctuary, unable to handle the sounds of sobbing and the heavy air of grief. In the front row, Ludwig was holding his head in his hands, tears flowing down his cheeks unabashedly. The fourth pew on the right held Matthew and his family. The small blonde was trembling, crying as he clutched a letter in his hands. The glint of silver shone from a ring around his finger. Roderich fumbled the keys, but no one noticed as his played slowed, evenly matching the tone of his uneven voice.

**"The sharp knife of a short life;  
Well, I've had just enough time.  
If I die young, bury me in satin,  
Lay me down…"**

Apart from sniffles, the final chord rang through near silence. After a moment of somber remembrance, Ludwig stood, wiping at his wet face. He moved to Roderich at the piano and embraced him, shoulders shaking. "Thank you."  
Roderich couldn't answer, but instead clenched his fists, nodding into his cousin's shoulder. Elizaveta pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes wet as she looked upon them. Roderich was the only family Ludwig had left.  
While the stressful service disbanded, Ludwig somehow found himself on the church steps beside Matthew. He glanced at the sky and was suddenly filled with hope.  
"How do you get through it?"  
Ludwig looked over at Matthew, who had spoken. "I cope by going to Gilbert. But now, I suppose I can't do that… I can only remember." Matthew blinked furiously, fighting hot tears. "You really loved him, didn't you?"  
"I…" Matthew subconsciously twisted the ring on his finger. "I still do. I know he's… he's… I know that. But I still worry about him. I still love him."  
"He's alright, you know. He's safe."  
"How can you be sure?"  
"See the rainbow over there? The day of my parent's funeral, there was a rainbow in the sky. Gilbert told me that every time someone we love goes to heaven, God makes them a rainbow so we'll know they're okay. This is the first one since the crash. It's him. I know it is."  
Matthew stared at a tree across the road. "He asked me to wait for him. Until he came back from deployment. He gave me his purity ring."  
Ludwig glanced at Matthew's hand, and the ring was indeed there. He nodded slowly. "Makes sense. He never explicitly said anything, but I could tell. He was head over heels for you, Matthew. You were everything to him."  
Matthew blushed slightly, but a small smile tugged at his lips, tainted by sorrow. "Ludwig?"  
"Yes?"  
"What color was his uniform?"  
"It was white, mostly, with a bit of blue and tan. Why?"  
Matthew let the smile worm onto his face, though a tear dripped from his eye.  
"He met God while wearing white…"


End file.
